


Insatiable (Because it's necessary)

by Ishipbadasschicks (Awal)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 2 percent setting, Canon Compliant, F/F, I added another 2k of smut, Light some candles, Sex, Smut, and 100 percent feels, because why not, bless yall for reading, circa season 2, i really cannot be much clearer, in canon clarkes face didnt get wet until season 3, its sin., my babies clexa, pour a glass of holy water. Get a towel to clean yourself up with, this is 98 percent smut, though obviously it take a different path
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-09-22 23:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awal/pseuds/Ishipbadasschicks
Summary: She practically growls against your mouth, pulling you flush against her, “You are so infuriating, Clarke.”Clarke is a distraction. Lexa cannot handle it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tangledinprose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangledinprose/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Greedy (Because it's necessary. Or whatever)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793807) by [Tangledinprose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangledinprose/pseuds/Tangledinprose). 

> Almost 2 years ago... I challenged my GF to a writing exercise... Take one of the others fics and rewrite it from a different perspective...

She's watching you from across the fire, and you don’t have to look to see the rigid strength of her posture, the darkness of her gaze, the flames folding into every crevice of her features and making you ache with the need to draw her… You _know_. 

You’ve been purposely avoiding her gaze while watching her all evening.

However, Lexa's reciprocal gaze is anything but subtle. She has not moved from your peripheral for so long that your face_ burns_, heat creeps down your neck and you can’t help but fidget from the attention.

You’re in the middle of a war, an actual war, where people have died, where more people will die, and your plans will dictate who those people will be. 

So there’s a distinct possibility that Lexa is tearing down scenarios in her head, that she’s received new information that she needs to make sense of before telling you, that she’s overheard the rumors spreading through the camp and she’s thinking of how best to approach you about disciplining your people. 

You don’t know what it is. But you trust her to tell you if it’s important, and you surprise yourself by not feeling the need to march over to her and demand to know immediately. 

It's a testament to how far you've both come. 

Lexa’s an incredible leader, she is an intelligent and pragmatic visionary every bit worthy of the faith her people place in her. 

But it isn't her leadership that has been distracting you lately. It isn’t her battle prowess slinking low into your belly. 

No, It’s the tone she uses when the two of you are alone, the careful way she places herself next to you or reaches around you as not to invade your space. How she finds time to ask you about your life and is able to pull your focus to parts of your own stories that you mistook for irrelevant. 

It’s how her lips curl when she smirks, those tiny raised eyebrows and head tilts in meetings with generals that pass between the two of you like you’ve been communicating silently all of your lives. 

It’s the familiarity between the two of you, the ease in your existence that allows you to_ want. _ To recognize the incredible dichotomy of her existence and yearn to taste it yourself. 

You want to strip her of her commanding attire, to see her soft and pliant beneath you while you stretch her open and devour her essence. 

You want to bathe in her strength, scratch her open and swallow her hisses. You want to capture her with your hands and tongue and teeth and then maybe after, your charcoal pencils. 

Your want intensifies. 

And yes you've had sex before. As the council woman's daughter, you’d walked passed arm guards and directly into the room of an orphaned comrade. You fucked there, quickly. Hot breaths mingling with the intent to stay quiet. Another girls fingers curling inside of you with a new angle. Strokes that you’ve never been able to duplicate yourself, a roughness that you’ve never been quite able to manage alone. It was a new kind of orgasm, one that left you raw and shaking, and it was good.

On the ground, you slept with Finn. It was something that seemed entirely awkwardly sweetly romantic until it ceased to be slow. Until you ripped off each other's clothes so quickly that you were pulling him inside of you before you pushed him completely into the blankets. 

He seemed so innocent as he keened and begged with every roll of your hips, moaned on every downward slide. You closed your eyes and tossed your head back content to soak in the sensations zinging through your body. You rode him to your orgasm, not stopping when he eased his desperate thrusts beneath you. 

It was all you needed at the time. A release in the chaos. A moment of oblivion. 

But this, This is completely different. This has been building slowly, festering on the outer reaches of your consciousness, pulling your attention. 

Lexa is under your skin, pumping through your veins, leaching onto your brain, she has stolen your focus and interrupted your stride, It's actually pretty infuriating. 

“I need to speak to you privately,'' she says, suddenly at your side. 

You try to hide your surprise as you turn to Octavia and excuse yourself.

With a quick nod, you fall into step behind Lexa. 

Unsurprisingly, she makes a beeline for her tent, stopping to hiss at her guards in trigedasleng. Cohesively they all take several steps away from the tent. When Lexa's gaze doesn't waver, they take several more. 

Satisfied, Lexa leads you into the tent. 

When you pull the quilt covering the entrance closed behind you, you turn to see Lexa stripping herself of her weapons. Her sword is already laying on the table, her daggers following close behind. 

“What is it?” you ask confused. You don’t know what is happening, what emotion you should be feeling, so you roll through them all anxiously.

You obviously lose your mind because there’s no way the commander groans from across the room. Only, she must have because she closes the distance between you the next second with an impatient fury. 

You inhale sharply as her gloved hands settle softly on your jaw, fingers following some invisible path along your face. 

Her eyes don’t waiver from your lips, and Jesus, She kisses you before you can decide to close the distance yourself, before you even consider it a viable option. 

You groan. God. She tastes delicious. 

The fullness of her bottom lip has invaded your dreams, now it's softness taunts you. The confident press of her lips dragging groans from the back of your throat is everything but not enough. 

She's savoring you, drinking you in like something rare and delectable. 

You clench, Her name falling out in broken syllables. The heat between your thighs instant and sharp. You don't think you've ever been able to pinpoint the exact moment you became wet before. 

You're drenched. 

Her kiss is nothing like you expected and everything you need. 

You push against her, licking boldly, shivering under her touch, her singular focus. 

Dirt shifts beneath you and you can feel the telltale sign of your knees preparing to buckle. But her fingers slide through your belt loops, holding you up even as she maneuvers you to the center of the tent, pressing your back into the wooden post. 

she practically growls against your mouth, pulling you flush against her, “You are so infuriating, Clarke.” 

Her tongue dips into your mouth and you both moan, slotting together, breast to breast, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh. 

Your _elbow_ tingles. It's ridiculous and impossible but it does, a cold chill overtaking the top half of your body. Pinpricks vibrate up your arms and harden your nipples painfully. You rub them against her desperately. 

She has been preparing you all day, but now, She is_ teasing _you. 

“You’ve been watching me," you breathe. 

Her eyes meet yours, warpaint smudged, eyes almost as black as the kohl surrounding them. 

“I could feel your eyes on me the entire time you were out there trying to gather your people.”  
  
Her lips are swollen, breath catching, gaze intense. It's there. Like the dew clinging to your skin during a storm, the grit of earth crunching beneath your too-big boots in the forest. 

Her. This. The inevitable thing between you. 

Your_ want_ is almost suffocating.

"And this?” You flex the hand on the nape of her neck, swivel your hips and she yields easily. Pliant beneath you as you reverse your positions, pushing her back into the pillar, and pressing your thigh against her center. 

You pull her bottom lip between your teeth, swallow her wanton moan because you made it, and that makes it yours. 

“This is what you were thinking about?”  
  
She watches you silently, her eyes an eclipse, pupils blown so wide you can't make out the green. 

You grind into her, the hand holding her neck flexes, and a small whimper escapes her. 

Fuck, you're so ready.  
  
You kiss her slowly, deeply, and you watch each other for a moment, eyes open and it feels filthy, dirty, wet. “How am I infuriating Lexa?” it sounds like the dare it is. 

You graze your lips over hers lightly, noses brushing, you feel like bouncing, energetic and restless. But you sink into the way your heart is banging against your sternum, the rough broken air exiting your lungs. 

"Tell me." 

She surges forward, kissing you hard, licking the roof of your mouth, sucking on your lips. 

Her hand links with your hand on her neck, fingers entwining, and you use it as leverage to hold her hand above your heads, to push into her harder. 

Her kiss destroys you with a passion you didn’t even know existed.

You want her naked. Now. 

She bucks into you as if reading your thoughts, and you whimper at the brief friction. 

She pushes at you softly and you back up enough for her to strip you of your jacket. Her eyes burn through you with dangerous intent.

A soft kiss and she pushes again. 

You take a few steps backward and she follows leaving the minimal amount of space between you. 

The back of your knees bump the bed and you sink down as she lifts your shirt in one smooth motion. 

You press backward further, feel your hair fan across her pillow and she stills above you. Drinking you in with a dark lust-filled gaze. 

Her eyes rove your skin for too long, her appreciative gaze filling you with an almost violent need to touch her. 

You lick your own lips, ready to beg, demand. But her eyes snap to your mouth and follow the movement of your tongue.

“You are so infuriating, Clarke.” she husks your name, the click of consonants making you clench. 

She pulls the fingerless gloves off of her hands roughly, Bringing your attention to her digits. 

"The way you move your lips when you speak. The way you clench your fists when you’re annoyed. The way you smile with your entire face like you know how to be truly happy.”

Jesus. 

“The way you taste. The way I dream of your body.”

She is raw passion. Dangerous and gentle. Rough and tentative. You can feel her words. Hear how deeply she means them, you yearn to taste them. She is so fucking sweet. 

She peels off her leather jacket above you, firm tan skin revealed inch by agonizing inch. 

“The way my teeth itch to be dragged along your skin.”

Noone has ever teased you like this. Noone has ever drenched your panties _and _pants, swelled your heart, and captured your attention this completely. 

You stop admiring her body, give in to your need to touch it. You sit up and pull at her hips. 

Your fingers reach beneath her thin shirt, lightly scraping your nails against the tan skin of her abdomen, and your breath puffs against the exposed skin below her belly button.

You slide her belt buckle open, palm gliding the fabric of her pants over her hips and out of your way. 

You taste the skin your hands traveled. A light nip to her hip bone before you kiss low on her stomach, and she fucking _keens _above you, her stomach jumping beneath your mouth. 

You've never wanted to taste anyone so badly. 

“You are.....” You tug her down on top of you, meeting her eyes as you speak against her lips, “So hot.”

She pulls down your pants and you kick them off so she can straddle you properly. 

Her shirt is thrown to the floor and she nuzzles beneath your jaw, into your neck. 

She bites down, and your moan sounds filthy to your own ears. 

The way she groans back makes you chuckle against her, you can't help it, “I’m so infuriating. I know.”

She growls and sinks her teeth in again. Harder. You buck against her and another sound spills free. 

“You have no clue, Clarke"

She flattens her tongue against you, suckling on your jaw, sliding into the dip of your collarbone, dragging it down your throat. She is fucking _lapping _at your skin, humming at your flavor. 

"Naked," she commands against you. 

You arch your eyebrows, a small smirk building. If you had the patience you would make her remove the rest of your clothes herself.

You don't.

Your hands slip deftly behind you and release the clasp on your bra. 

She is there immediately, rolling the straps down your arms and you toss it carelessly to the floor. 

She looks hypnotized, riveted. Her hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing lightly, and you hiss at the warmth, pushing into her harder. Craving her mouth. 

She breathes something that sounds suspiciously like 'fuck' and you'll definitely revisit that later. 

But now. Her lips are pressing against your sternum, planting kisses along your ribs as her hands continue caressing you. 

Your legs fall open, thighs spread in blatant invitation. 

You run your hands down her back with new purpose, pulling the material hiding her skin from you and sliding it up and over her head. 

She sits up to dispose of it for you, hair cascading over her shoulders. Her tan skin sits proudly on display, beautiful hard nipples, muscles covered by soft feminine curves, the hint of abs. 

You whimper as she sinks back into you, sharing her heat. 

You meet her eyes, “Now. I want you now.” you have no more patience. 

You grab her hips, pulling her into you as you thrust back, and she complies, rocking her hips and God, her hands, finally rubbing down your thighs. 

“Have you ever been worshipped Clarke?” she whispers against your abdomen. 

“Has anyone ever taken the time to memorize you?” she is sitting up, hooking your legs around her hips. 

“You deserve to be worshipped.”

You can feel her breath sinking lower on your belly, wet kisses follow and you feel the ties of your panties fall open under her fingers. 

She brushes over you, feeling the slick coat of your wetness through the clinging material. You're sure she can see the arousal ruining your white cotton panties, your wetness glistening on your inner thighs. 

She continues her languid torturous kissing.

You are so close to shoving your hand down your body and giving yourself some relief. 

But her fingers are suddenly inside of your underwear, sliding against your slick, and you almost choke on your gasp, bucking into her hand for more. 

She pulls the material off, taking a moment to survey the mess that she made and then her tongue is sliding into you, wet and warm and soft. She touches your clit and you whimper, hands gripping her hair with enough pressure that she feels your need and conveys that you will murder her if she stops. 

" Fuck, Lexa.”

She grips your hips roughly, positioning you, and her tongue sinks in. Deep wet strokes that you can hear. 

“God Lexa....ffu...more.” 

She's groaning with you, devouring you, lifting your hips to meet the thrust of her mouth, to give you purchase as your cunt desperately grips at the stroke of her tongue. 

She's spreading you open, sucking on your clit, alternating pressure and patterns so you can't keep up, can't do anything but thrash. 

Your moans sound loud to your own ears, a constant stream of whimpers and groans penetrating the darkness that you are free-falling in. 

“Lexa....so close...'' 

Two fingers sink inside of you, you actually squeal, eyes flying open as she curls them. Your hips jerk on their own, and your body is trembling before your orgasm even hits you.

“Ah, Fuck!” You're right on the edge. 

Her fingers still suddenly, the heat of her mouth removed. 

You growl, “Lexa! What?”

“I want to watch you as you fall apart. I want your eyes on me.” 

Her face is actually _shiny_, your wetness dripping down her chin, her lips swollen. 

She starts thrusting again, faster, deeper. She watches you with dark eyes. Seems to see the creation of your small whimpers and she makes sounds back, like it's _your _fingers slipping into her cunt, _your_ mouth lapping at her clit.

Your muscles pull taut, straining for the release you've been begging for all night. 

Her fingers take over your clit, giving you more friction, “Now. Come for me."

Your head falls back, there is no way you could keep your eyes on her. Your neck is stretched back, an instinctive struggle for breath because your mouth is open, gasping moans falling out as your entire body throbs, _ shakes_, pulses. 

It takes several gasps to get enough oxygen, “Shit. Lexa...ohmygod.” 

Your abdomen is still trembling, your hips rocking, waves of pleasure coursing through you. 

You hiss as she slides her fingers out, only to groan as she immediately slides them into her mouth like she can't get enough of your taste. 

She is insatiable. 

You fling your forearm over your eyes, riding the tail end of your orgasm, allowing gravity to slowly sink into the room, grounding you. 

You give yourself a few moments before you remove your arm purposefully, newly energized. 

You push yourself up using your hips as leverage and drape across her thighs, your arms looping around her neck, hand immediately playing with the hair at the nape, light scratching her skull.

“Do you understand how beautiful you are," you whisper against her. You wonder if she really has any idea that she is a fucking exquisite marvel. 

Your tongue slides along her jaw and she groans for you, a deeper needier sound than before.

“You all clothed in leather, dark paint on your skin. That snarl that you do when you’re pissed baring your teeth. God, the command of your voice.”

Your teeth sink into her neck and her hips jerk strongly even as her head tilts in utter submission.

“You, naked and craving me. Your eyes on me.”

You lean up and capture her lips. Swallowing her small gasp. 

You flick your tongue against the roof of her mouth, explore, learn quickly what she likes and replicate it. You want her to feel how hard you came. Reciprocate how good she makes you feel. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, suckling at her bottom lip. She makes a high pitched sound as you scrape your teeth lightly along it. You detach abruptly, “Did you just whimper Lexa? Fuck.”

You push at her insistently, “I want you on your back. Now.”

“You get bossy when you are aroused.” she snarks, even as she unravels her legs and lays back, hands still glued to your hips. 

“You think this is bossy? Wait until I’m demanding that you come."

You climb over her, pressing your breast against hers, letting her feel the pressure of your nipples as you bite at her lip. You swivel your hips against her, smirking as her head falls back. 

She shudders strongly against you. Her breath a broken pant, “You are so infuriating.”

You smile against her skin. 


	2. Lexa gets a turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another 2k of smut because it's always neccesary

She is quiet and breathy and admirably reserved in her passion. It builds slowly, from the ground up, and like everything else about her, it is intense in its simplicity. 

Her heartbeat throbs, you press slick skin against her to feel it ricochet through your body. Every gasp and shaky exhale sinks beneath your skin and it takes everything in you not to pitifully whimper at how sexy it is. At how sexy she is. 

You groan, “I want to hear you.”

Her stomach jumps against you, her eyes flickering to lock with yours and her lidded gaze is as much of a challenge as you have ever been issued. 

A lazy smirk grows. God, this girl. 

You want to wreck her. In every way you can discover, in every way time will allow.

She’s warm and wet and so so soft and it’s driving you crazy. You’re quivering, a selfish kind of arousal blossoming anew and every time she pushes up into your hand your clit pulses in jealousy. 

She’s moaning in the back of her throat, breath shattering before it escapes her mouth and you can’t refrain from trying to taste it. 

You kiss her wetly, just briefly, right when you curl your fingers inside of her. Her hand flies to your wrist, holding you in place as she releases a long, deep, filthy moan, “Don’t stop.”

“Fuck.” Heat pools in your abdomen and you breathe it into her neck. 

She Immediately contracts around your fingers and you slide deeper, “Jeesus.” 

You almost come at the wet sounds accompanying the slide of your hand, the feeling of her leg curled high around you, clutching you. 

You grind against her thigh, rocking to alleviate the heat suffocating you, to tame the arousal pooling and smearing across the smooth skin of her thigh. 

"Lexa, you feel.." 

Her chest vibrates with a moan beneath you, you can’t stop from biting her jaw, licking her collarbone, leaning down to suck her nipple into your mouth. 

“So good.” 

You’re addicted to the taste of her skin—sweet and salty and something wholly out of place but perfectly _Lexa_. 

Her cunt flexes around your fingers, pulling you in deeper, soaking your palm, and God. You want nothing more than to feel it on your tongue. 

"Clarke."

The way she says your name is desperate and demanding all at once. You practically growl against her. “You are. So fucking sexy."

You curl your fingers inside of her again and again, wetness pooling, her thigh hard against you, trembling where you’re rocking.

Her hips jerk erratically, a constant stream of erotic moans, and you can tell it won’t be long now. 

You brush against her clit, savor the loud sound that falls from her mouth and the way her head falls back exposing her neck. 

You lean up to suck on the curve connecting her jaw and neck, “I want to hear you come.” 

She fucking keens at your voice, trembling beneath you and it zings along your spine and vibrates down to your fingertips. 

The pad of your thumb rubs firm circles as you bite down on the juncture of her neck and almost lose it at the long, choked moan she releases into your shoulder as she comes around your fingers. 

Allowing her no reprieve you slide down her body and hook her legs over your shoulders. She's still shuddering as you allow yourself a few broad strokes to savor her taste before you suck on her clit, tripping her into another orgasm. 

Her fingers clutch at your hair, simultaneously pushing and pulling, and you want to assure her that you are so far from done. 

You rut into the bed beneath you, getting only the tiniest bit of friction as you wiggle but it's perfect. It keeps you keyed up and on edge. It makes you open your mouth wider, roll out your tongue further, it makes you _hungry_. 

You slip your tongue inside of her, gently curling and licking until she comes all the way down, dragging in deep gasping huffs of oxygen. 

Her eyes meet yours and her hand gives you a small tug, the slight sting just making you more eager. 

You shake your head slightly, a muffled “Mm-Mm,” vibrating against her. Not yet.

She flops back against the bed. Boneless even as you begin to build her again. It only takes a few minutes for her to resume rocking her hips up to meet your mouth. To wrap both hands in your hair firmly holding your tongue against her clit.

You suck sloppily then, trading out patterns and flicks of your tongue as she holds your head still and grinds against your face, her moans starting a crescendo.

You slide your fingers back inside of her, one, then two as she spreads herself wider for you, her hands pulling you closer. 

You pump your fingers into her slowly, as deep as you can go, and increase the pressure of your mouth. 

You hold her hip down with your forearm as she withers strongly beneath you, almost knocking into you as she whimpers. 

She comes on your face. Your chin warm and wet, fingers clutching your hair. You keep the same pace easing her through her orgasm, and don't slow until her grip loosens. Then you remove your fingers and softly slide your tongue inside of her, lapping at her wetness, and moaning in the back of your throat as you gently clean her up. 

She groans against you, trigedasleng falling out sweetly as she fists your hair with one hand and tugs again. 

“Greedy,” she says weakly. 

You smile as you climb up her body, a cursory wipe of your face because you’re all about sharing but you are literally dripping with her juices. 

You can feel her body still spasming beneath you as she uses the grip on your hair to pull until she can kiss you. 

It’s slow and sweet and just the slightest bit slack, and it has you grinning against her mouth, your smile turning into a surprised yelp as her long fingers slide easily inside of you, two in a single push. 

Her free hand slides to your hip, and she bucks beneath you, urging you to straddle her properly. 

Limbs loose and weak, eyes blown, she bites at your bottom lip, breathing “Ride me.” Into your mouth. 

You moan at that, flexing around her fingers.

“More,” you beg desperately. You are close and honestly so fucking wet that two fingers aren’t going to give you the stretch you need to push you over the edge.

She slides another digit inside of you and you groan your thanks as you push all the way down experimentally, widening your thighs until your pelvis meets the base of her hand and the curve of her lower belly. 

She flicks her finger against your front wall, and you moan, throat sore from all the sounds this escapade has produced.

You set a fast rhythm. The swivel of your hips rolling her fingers around inside of you. You slide up and down their length desperately, breaking the breath exiting your own lungs. 

Her free hand roams your body, rubbing your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples, palming the curves of your hips and placing a gentle, delicious pressure against the front of your belly while her fingers try to meet them from inside of you. 

Her hand is fucking perfect as she lifts her palm and lets you grind your clit against it every time you sink down all the way. 

"Harder," she pants beneath you.

You make a sound that you have never heard yourself make. It jolts you out of your body and provides you with a moment of awareness. You realize how loud you actually are, and that there are people out there who can <strike>almost</strike> definitely hear you. 

Lexa bucks up against you just as you thrust down — to get your attention back, you’re sure—but instead, you come. Breaking like a fucking crashing tide. You spread out both arms above your head, curved and there, and you don’t even know _why_ except you have to stretch out your torso from the heat radiating from your belly. You have to make room for your lungs to pull in air before you pass out. 

You slam against her fingers, relishing the loud wet squish that echos on every thrust as you ride out your orgasm. And you want to laugh because it’s so good that there’s actually a smidge of fear. It feels possible that you could slip into a coma. 

After long moments you collapse on top of her. Your face buried in her neck, heartbeat erratic and almost painful as it beats in your chest. Your thighs ache deliciously and your stomach is still quivering. 

She eases her fingers out of you, and you groan with the emptiness. 

She drops a kiss to your shoulder and her fingers continue to lightly stroke you. Not enough to stimulate, just enough to keep you grounded and feeling the intimacy. 

*

You’re not sure how much time has passed when Lexa gives you a light pat on the back of your thigh, you’re not even sure if you napped, to be honest. You roll off of her smoothly, cool air hitting your sweat-soaked skin. 

There’s an ache between your thighs that is going to follow you for days. 

You grin as she stands, “Not a cuddler, huh.” 

She smiles at you, eyes twinkling, as she leans over and drops a soft peck on your lips. 

“You’re infuriating,” she says softly, lacking any level of displeasure. 

“You love it.”

She pulls on her clothes with practiced ease, tucking a singular knife into her boot, and her sword in its holster. Her posture is regal even before her commander’s jacket folds around her curves. 

You remain naked and spread, content to watch for a moment as she tucks away the parts of herself that she seems to only share with you.

It’s a giddy feeling. 

Your contentment is short-lived, an itch in the back of your neck burrows itself into your heart and floods your system so suddenly that tears burn your eyes. 

You’re in the middle of a war for God’s sake. You don’t get to have things for yourself, not yet. 

With a sigh, you stand and begin the search for your clothes. 

Lexa meets your eyes and you will never know what she intended to say because just as she’s opening her mouth she's interrupted by loud cries of “Heda!” 

She dashes out of the tent, her jacket liquid as it rolls behind her. 

You step into your boots quickly, pants unbuttoned and jacked half on before you follow her out of the tent, a sense of dread building. 

You find her in a sea of giant bearded men, lip curled and growling in fast trigedasleng. You allow yourself a moment to watch the fire in her eyes, to see the men three times her size cower under that gaze. 

You swallow harshly. 

She catches your eyes briefly, the tiniest nod assuring you that everything is okay before she turns back to the men, parting them with the flick of her wrist and marching away with them falling in line behind her. 

Whatever you were feeling, whatever guilt was attempting to suffocate you dissipates gently. 

These are the moments you are fighting for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ex said this was good so if it's not fit for public consumption I'm 100% okay with you blaming her 😂

**Author's Note:**

> For our little writing exercise, I wanted it to be as hard as possible because easy is no fun. I chose Smut which I'm not the best at, a POV that I don't particularly like, and well. Here it is. 
> 
> Let me know what you think or in the words of one of my favorite people ever, "Kudos me bitch."


End file.
